Steele Here, To Keep You Warm
by loneguppy
Summary: Vacation plans gone awry. Not everything is as it seems, when the Steele's tried to take a break from work.
1. Chapter 1

_Since becoming husband and wife, the opportunity for closeness has eluded Mr. and Mrs. Steele. For Remington Steele Investigations, it's still very much business as usual. It seems life has conspired to pull them apart as often as possible._

* * *

The Steele's have been planning a long overdue getaway for sometime, however Mr. Steele was out of town at a speaking engagement all day, while Mrs. Steele's departure would be further delayed a day by an unexpected police investigation. They would have to meet up later.

Where they were to go remained a surprise for Laura, since Mr. Steele thought it exciting to reveal the destination by postcard to his wife at the very last minute.

"So where are you kids off to?" asked Mildred Krebs.

"Fun awaits you at … Whistler, B.C." Laura waved about a postcard depicting a snow scene with a skier.

"Have Fred pick me up at the apartment in thirty minutes, Mildred," she said as she headed out the office doors.

* * *

Later that afternoon.

"Remington Steele Investigations … Oh. Hi Boss … Laura? … On her way to Whistler … British Columbia! … What do you mean you are in Vermont? … Oh my."

* * *

A driver picked up Laura from the airport and drove her to the hotel. Upon arrival, she received a message to meet Mr. Steele on the ski slopes.

* * *

Several hours later, Mr. Steele grew suspicious when a driver he didn't request was waiting to take him to _their hotel_. He became even more restless when he just finds Laura's luggage in _their rooms_ and his wife missing in a snowstorm.

The fresh snowfall made the search difficult. Every now and then, Steele called her on his cellular. He was getting bars, but no signals. The third time's the charm, he located her mobile handset at the bottom of a two meter drop.

* * *

"Ow!"

The pain in Laura's right side was excruciating. She managed to sit up against a tree. The last thing she recalled was slipping on some icy patch and sailing through the air. Then skidding head first into some trees. She must have crashed into this tree.

Her skis were a write-off though. She seriously doubt that she would get her deposit back on these rentals, which were still attached to her boots. One of them was bent out of shape and the other broken, like she felt.

The temperature dropped some more, by the time she heard sounds other than the blowing wind.

"H-H-Help!"

* * *

Steele waited anxiously as rescuers brought up his wife and secured her to a stretcher.

"Laura?"

She peered up at him.

"Mis-ter S-Steele?" she said so very softly. "Long time."

Steele gestured a small thanks to the heavens for small fortunes.

Although, safety gear may have saved her life, Laura still suffered minor injuries. Steele saw that she was holding her side protectively and winced at every movement.

* * *

After a long wait, in the emergency ward, Steele's concentration was fading fast. He was half listening to the doctor deliver Laura's prognosis, as he held his wife's all too cold hand … Hairline fractures on the right scapula ... oblique fractures on right ribs 5, 6 and 7.

"Beg your pardon?"

By the time the doctor asked him about his wife's medical history, Steele was at a complete lost.

Laura tapped her husband on the shoulder. She had a suggestion.

"Ask Mildred," Laura offered.

"Mildred?"

Laura nodded.

* * *

"She is going to be alright … She had a bad fall … Mildred. Mildred, just tell me if she has any allergies … Antihistamine? … Thanks love … We'll be home soon … When? … Tomorrow night … Bye bye."

* * *

Home sweet home at last, but hardly alone. When Fred dropped the Steele's off at their Los Angeles apartment, Mildred would be waiting for them. Mr. Steele opened the door to their rooms, to allow Laura to walk on through, before setting down their bags.

"Ooh! Honey!"

Perhaps it was the Aspirin or being bundled up to the gills in compression bandages, Laura was unfazed when Mildred swooped in with open arms, giving the younger woman a bear hug.

"Ooh. Ah. Ha ha."

Laura wanted to stay to discuss their current predicament with her husband, but Mildred gave her a stern look. She was about to object but acquiesced and let the older woman march her off to bed.

Over the years, Steele has observed that Laura has tried to, but was never quite able to avoid Mildred's well-intentioned shows of affections. It brought them closer together though. Steele could see now that the bond these women share was definitely stronger than what he could ever have with Laura.

* * *

Shortly afterwards, Mildred was done. She emerged from the bedroom to give Steele an OK sign.

"I got some mentholatum for you. Rub on her chest to clear the congestion." She hands him the jar of ointment from her handbag.

"And when she wakes up hungry, give her some of this ginger chicken broth. No solids yet." Mildred takes out a thermos from her tote and sets it down on the coffee table.

Steele nods.

"Thanks Mildred," he paused. "How is it you know Laura's medical history so well?"

Mildred threw on her shawl.

"Experience, Boss."

"Where was I when you had this experience?"

"It all happened when you were on that book signing tour, back in February."

"Oh yes. Twenty cities in seven days… . Hmm."

Mildred put on her hat.

"Yeah. The client, from the Devlin case, gave Laura the flu. But the poor kid developed pneumonia that sent her to the hospital for two days."

"And you were there for her. Bless you Mildred."

Steele kissed Mildred on both cheeks and saw her off.

* * *

Peering into their bedroom, Steele smiled at the sight before him. Propped up with extra pillows and covered with her favorite comforter, Laura sneezed into a tissue.

"Whatso funnee?" she said, wiping her nose.

"I never thought I would see the day the unflappable Laura Holt would let someone take care of her."

Steele slid under the covers and snuggled next to her as close as possible, then reached into his pant pocket and produced a coin.

"I found this in _our hotel room_."

"Descoine?" Steele shook his head.

"Still in prison," he said, as he brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I wouldn't worry about that now."

But she does anyway.

"Laura… I didn't send you that message."

"I know."

He leaned over and kissed Laura between her brows and followed it with a kiss on her lips.

Catching a sniffly breath, Laura finally said, "What are you doin'?"

Steele kissed her again.

"Stob it. You'll get sicck too." Ah … ah … achoo!

"I don't get _sick_."

Laura eyed him suspiciously as he produced a jar of mentholatum.

"Now what are you doin'?" She sniffled.

Steele opened the jar and then looked down at his wife, bandages and all, with a glee in his eyes. Knowing what he wants, Laura pulled the comforter up to her chin in mock indignation.

"Mr. Steele!"

* * *

 **Dedicated to the show writers for all the one-sided telephone conversations that always made me laugh.**


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, all was quiet at the Steele's apartment. By the time Steele awoke, Laura was still very much asleep. He called the office to let Mildred know that they wouldn't be coming in.

"Yes. … Yes. Close up shop. … Take the rest of the day. … Take it easy, Mildred. See you tomorrow."

As Steele was bringing into the bedroom a trayful of breakfast stuff, Laura began to stir. He set the tray onto his side of the bed before helping her sit up.

He propped the the pillows behind her back while she looked out the windows.

"So dark. What time is it?" asked Laura, her left hand combing through the tangles in her hair.

It had been raining and was just only getting lighter out.

"Eleven thirty A.M."

Steele started on a piece of toast.

Laura accepted no more than one bite of toast that he had dunked in tea. She felt tired.

"Why don't I draw you a bath, eh? The steam should do you some good."

Laura nodded.

Steele undid the wrapping around Laura's shoulder and left her to it.

After half an hour, she came out refreshed, having changed into a camisole and pink pajama bottoms.

Clapping his hands together once, Steele patted a spot for her on the bed where he was, sitting there cross-legged.

"Come here. I know you, Holt. You want to get to work right away."

Rubbing his hands together to generate heat, Steele began working on her arms and neck, loosening up the knots and kinks that had accumulated the day before.

Reaching in front and over Laura's chest, Steele placed his left hand just under her right arm. Pitching her forward slightly, he gently pressed on the back of her right shoulder.

He stopped when he heard a wince.

"Ow! Ow! Don't stop. … Keep going. Ah! It's … OK."

Steele continued to ply pressure to the surrounding joints and pulled her arm back a bit. At some point, Laura gripped his arm.

"Ugh. … So. It seems someone deliberately lured me away to Whistler. … But my accident could have happened anyway."

After all these years, Steele shouldn't be surprised any more, but he was truly amazed at how Laura's mind always functions so sharply, even under stress.

"Whoever is behind this sent that postcard. … And may have even arranged for me to make a trip down to the police station."

Steele smiled.

"We can question Descoine tomorrow. OK?"

It was not OK. To Laura's disappointment, Mr. Steele left her at the office while taking Mildred along with her Rabbit to the prison.

* * *

At the prison, Steele was told it would be difficult communicating with Descoine.

"If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?"

They have been warned that the major has been quoting Shakespeare.

"Right. About your daughter, eh. … How do we find her?"

"How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child!"

"King Lear, act 1, scene 4," Mildred chimed in.

Steele gave her a surprised look.

"We do know one thing."

"What's that, Boss?"

"He hasn't forgotten that I am his enemy."

On the way back to the office. It seemed that they were left with no new clue.

"We still know nothing about the daughter."

"Perhaps not."

"What did you get out this?"

"His daughter has gone behind his back."

* * *

Sitting in her office with a silk scarf for a makeshift sling, Laura became restless. She hated waiting. She hated that Mr. Steele was making her wait.

The postcard was a dead end. There was no postmark. What else was there to do?

Laura decided to reorganize her case files for the past week. When her stapler ran out of staples, she went to the reception desk to use Mildred's.

Halfway there, a few sheets of pages slipped out of the files Laura was balancing precariously with her right hand. Before she could bend down to pick it up, a hand reached out for it first.

Laura looked up to see a fairly good-looking young man in his mid-twenties.

"Excuse me. Are you Miss Holt? Miss Laura Holt?" inquired the handsome stranger.

His name was Weir Lachlan. Laura invited him to wait in Mr. Steele's office until her husband's return. Meanwhile, she made them both tea.

* * *

"How can the Remington Steele Agency be of service, Mister … Lachlan?" opened Steele.

"Weir," he paused. "I don't know where to begin."

Steele had taken his usual seat behind his desk. Laura sat at the chair at the far end of the coffee table. Mr. Lachlan paced.

"Two days ago, my wife got into a heated argument with her father. After that she became upset. And before I knew it, she had left with our baby."

"Why do you think we can help you find your wife and child?" asked Laura.

"I heard a lot about you folks from my wife."

"Who is your wife?" Steele said inquisitively.

"Sally. … Sally Descoine."

Steele and Laura exchanged a glance, Their suspicions about their nemesis have been confirmed. It's just not the Descoine they were expecting.

"Excuse us."

Laura gestured for Steele to join her in her office.

"You are not going to exclude me from this case. Are you?" Laura punctuated with a finger pointed to Steele's chest.

Steele shook his head, putting his hands on Laura's shoulders.

"I don't dare. Not this time. It's so far complicated, I need you full board."

* * *

(To be continued.)


	3. Chapter 3

**These Descoines have a way of vanishing, don't they?**

 **But we always come back, Mr. Steele. You can count on it.**

* * *

Weir Lachlin provided three addresses where he knew his wife had frequented in the past, but nothing useful regarding her background history. They had meet two years ago, five years since her father's incarceration.

Mildred's computer search revealed that only two of the addresses were new developments. That left an abandoned warehouse where the Steele's would begin their investigation.

During the day, Steele had tailed young Weir around discreetly, while Laura staked out the warehouse for any signs of Sally. After dark, Steele would be joining Laura in entering the building.

Laura lowered her binoculars at the sound of a knock on the passenger side window. She rolled down the window.

"Mr. Steele. What have you?"

"Weir had been home all afternoon, Mrs. Steele."

Steele stole a look through the binoculars as well.

"No activity here at all," confirmed Laura.

* * *

They searched floor by floor, breaking the gloomy atmosphere with beams of flashlights.

Under normal circumstances, Laura would be able to keep up with Steele. At the moment, her previous injuries were a hindrance. Resting every so often to stretch a strain.

And it did not escape Steele's notice.

"You alright, Laura?"

"Yeah," said Laura, before letting out a sigh.

They ascended four flights of stairs before they came across Sally's hideout.

They spotted a baby's crib, a full sized sofa, table with family photos, depicting the Major, Sally, a baby and an older woman. The space was made to be functional, yet surprisingly clean.

The fresh smell of talc and dust free environment indicated that she stayed there recently with the infant. Battery powered lights allowed her to live off the grid indefinitely.

What really caught the Steele's attention was one wall. Every newspaper article ever written about Remington Steele Investigations adorn this wall. These were interspersed with photographs of Laura and Steele. Photographs of Laura and Murphy before 1982 suggests Sally had been watching the agency for quite some time.

"These Descoine have an obsessive nature," observed Steele.

The most disturbing detail was the various LIES and FRAUD scrawled on Steele's image.

"Looks as if you have been found out?"

Laura directed Steele's attention to a full length mirror leaning against a corner. On it, written in red lipstick, LET'S HAVE TEA.

What was that sound? Laura looked up in time to see a pane of glass falling from the skylight above.

"Mr. Steele look out!"

Sidestepping the falling debris, Laura took a step back not knowing she had stepped onto a weaken floor board.

In an instant, she had fallen through to the floor, landing on the level below.

"Laura!" Steele's shout, as he saw her crashing through the wood floor, was met with Laura's own scream.

Shining his light down, Steele realized that Laura had landed on even more broken glass.

He took the stairs two to three at a time to get to Laura quickly.

As he got to her side, Laura was already pushing herself up. She stopped and cried out drawing back a bloody hand. She had cut her hands on the glass.

Steele quickly hoisted Laura to her feet. Both her hands were bleeding freely.

Not knowing how badly the wounds were, Steele reached for the nearest thing.

"Sorry," he said to her.

Laura nodded OK numbly for Steele to use her scarf.

Wrapping it around her hands loosely, he carried his wife down the rest of the steps.

* * *

On the drive to the hospital, Steele called Mildred to meet them their.

It was a long wait in emergency. When Mildred arrived at the hospital, Steele and Laura was in the waiting area. The latter was attached to saline I.V. Heavy gauze having replaced her soiled scarf.

Sipping tea from the vending machine, Steele was lost in thought. _Tea_.

"That's it!"

"Mr. Steele?" inquired Mildred. "What's going on?"

"Ah. Stay with Laura. Will you, Mildred?"

Just as the nurse was calling for Laura, Steele was already on his way out the doors.

* * *

Mildred waited anxiously as the doctor removed glass fragments from Laura's wounds and applied fresh dressing. … Good news. No injury to tendon and nerves. … No stitches required.

Mr. Steele was nowhere to be found by the time Laura was discharged.

"Where did Mr. Steele go?" asked Laura, looking over her bandaged hands.

"Beats me," began Mildred. "One minute, he was buying tea, the next minute he was outta here like a bat outta hell."

"Tea?" repeated Laura, as it suddenly dawned on her. "I know where he went."

Mildred was also catching on. "Hasn't that building been torn down?"

"As far as I know. But it's also a construction site."

"I'll call Fred."

* * *

Inside an empty commercial unit, with a half wall separating them. Steele found Sally Descoine with a minor of her own in a bassinet.

"You?" said Sally, looking up in surprise. "I had hoped to match wits with Miss Holt, today."

"You may not be aware," Steele said with a wave of his hand. "She is somewhat incapacitated at the moment."

"Sorry to hear that. I never meant any harm to come to either of you."

"Did you want to see us for some reason? That was the purpose of all your little bread crumbs. Wasn't it?"

"Very astute, Mr. Steele. I underestimated you.

"It was understandable why Dad left us, my mother and me.

"But I wanted to understand his obsession with you and Miss Holt, in particular you. So I studied all I could about you.

"What should I find? … Remington Steele didn't seem to exist, in the flesh, when my father was sent to prison."

"Dad refused to even believe it."

"Are you going somewhere with this?"

"I want proof for my theory, Mr. Steele."

While she turned away to check on her baby, Steele closed the distance between them. Before he could go any further, he realized he had stepped in something wet and gooey.

"Quick set cement, Mr. Steele."

"I'll make you a deal. I keep your secret, if you let me leave."

"What about the baby's father?"

"Who? Weir? He's not the father," laughed Sally. She picked up the bassinet. "Again. Sorry about Mrs. Steele. Until next time. Come on Perceval."

The agency limo arrived just as Laura and Mildred saw Sally exit one of the buildings. They went inside and found Remington Steele struggling to free himself from cement.

"I'll get Fred."

* * *

EPILOGUE

"Laura?"

Laura relaxed into the warm bath, with her hands held up high above the water.

"Laura." Steele repeated.

"I was just wondering what her endgame was?"

"To expose me as a fraud."

Laura eyed Steele as he got into the water as well.

"What are you doing?"

He offered a flute glass to Laura, who managed to balance it between her single digit hands.

"Celebrating."

Steele poured the champagne.

"Celebrating? At best, it was a draw."

"Somehow it felt like a victory. Come here."

"Mr. Steele!"

It was now Laura's turn to show glee in her eyes.


End file.
